


The Unexpected Reactions

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Crossing Jordan
Genre: Bug/Nigel, Crossing Jordan - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:57:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just before the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected Reactions

**Author's Note:**

> For vedaki. Consider it a graduation gift, my dear.

He’s lost his shirt, his shoes, and one of his socks in the half-stumbling, hot-kissing walk from the living room to the door of Nigel’s bedroom, and Bug’s fairly certain that he should be scared or nervous, or *something* that isn’t hot and horny and ready beyond a capacity he’s ever had in regards to sex. But it’s not just sex. It’s sex with Nigel. There’ll probably be whips and chains and whipped cream and chocolate, and maybe they’ll be some long, twisty, Seuss-ian toy that Nigel will present with a grin and a flourish and then promptly use on Bug to make him lose his mind.

Bug should be scared out of his fucking mind. He should be running for the door. He should be coming up with a handy excuse, hitting the ‘test’ button on his pager, faking a stomach cramp or a migraine. He should be doing something that isn’t shoving his hand down the front of Nigel’s pants and grinning at the way Nigel hisses and kisses him that much harder and hotter.

But it’s Nigel. Happy, gangly, aging punk rock Nigel. The man who presented him, his third day on the job, with a butterfly in a jar with the kind of happiness six-year-olds have when catching fireflies. This is Nigel, who always finds Bug on the roof, always pretending not to cry, when his mother calls him to remind him that it’s the anniversary of the day his brother died. Nigel, who pokes him in the back of the head until he agrees to pancakes and coffee at ungodly early hours of Saturday morning, and Nigel who, on their very first date, presented Bug with one very delicate red rose and a box of chocolate-covered crickets.

How Bug can be anything but excited and ready and *brimming* with expectations for the evening, he’s not sure.

“Mahesh?” Nigel’s pulling away, not very far, but far enough to see Bug’s eyes. “You’re ready? You’re certain? I’m not going to scare you?”

Scare him? Nigel? Who’s cupping his face and looking into his eyes and acting like he’s got all the time in the world, and not just the seven hours between now and when the alarm will go off for work the next day.

“You won’t scare me.”

And then the kisses are back. Softer and more lingering, but they cause the same rush up Bug’s spine as the others, and he knows with utter certainty that the only thing that could ever scare him, is losing any part of this at all.


End file.
